Authors notes: Yet another story! *Un-enthusiastically* go me!

They are everywhere!

I can't escape Them!

There is no hope left for me!

I hear Them surrounding me.

They will strike soon, I can feel it.

And when They come,

When They come I will be helpless.

I will not be able to defend myself.

They are here.

They are trying to turn me.

Trying to make me one of Them.

I must not surrender.

Must never give in.

But the temptation is too great,

I must give in!

I must become like Them.

I must become…a slash writer!

Lol, ok, sorry about that. I'm in a weird mood so please don't take it too seriously!?

Ok, this will be SLASH! (Aragorn/Legolas) So if you don't like that kinda stuff then – well, we have something in common! Lol, I only really did this due to requests and so I can say, 'hey, I did a slash story!' Um, this is also my first attempt at romance – well there was 'It's not my Fault!' but that is not really romantic – I mean Legolas spends most his time running away from Aragorn and calling him a petty/disgusting mortal! So that can't be classified in the romance category. So anyway, let me know what you think (no real slash this chapter and maybe not for one or two to come) but let me know anyway. By the way…I hate Aragorn so let me know if I make if out to be an asshole! I try to keep my feelings out of my writing so please let me know if I screw up in that fact! =^_^=

Disclaimer: I, Minka Greenleaf have gained control of the entire world. I dominate/own it and all it's beings and they all do my bidding! Hahahahahahahaha-ouch *hundreds of millions of people hit Minka over the head* ok, ok. I OWN NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!! *Tuns to the people* Can I at least own Upper Egypt?

People: NO!!!!!

Minka: dayum!


Dangerously in Love.

Part One.

A Cruel Twist of Fate.


"Get out of my way, Aragorn!" Legolas yelled while trying to push past the man blocking the doorway. Reacting to the tone of his voice, Aragorn looked a bit hurt, and Legolas automatically regretted his anger. But the man was infuriating him, driving him to madness with his over-protectiveness, and the Elf had had more then enough of it.

The two had been bickering so much so that Gimli and Éomer had quietly slipped out of the room, completely unnoticed by either of the two. The Dwarf and Man now stood on the rampart of Helm's Deep, looking out over the land that was being swallowed by the approaching darkness. Both knew that soon the armies of Orc and Uruk-hai would swoop down upon them, and the last thing they needed was tension between their comrades.

"So, Master Gimli, how did this spat come into being?" Éomer questioned the short being beside him. The Man harbored no solid opinions about the Dwarf, but the ones he did tended to sway into dislike. But still, he was someone to talk to and one of their own now, even after their dispute about the Lady of the Woods.

Gimli scoffed at the Man's question. "Who knows," he replied. "I know not the workings of their minds, but I do believe that it is based upon the Elf's wound."

"Legolas is wounded?" Éomer asked. This was new information to him, and he found it slightly disconcerting. The fact that Legolas was wounded and neither he nor anyone else had noticed haunted him. He had never known an Elf, but he did not think that they would be so good at hiding their emotions or feelings. Indeed that was what the Prince of Mirkwood had done and it had worked well in the Elf's favor.

"Aye, he was. And pretty badly by the looks of it," Gimli confirmed, "though he would never let on. That Elven pride is a strong thing, but Aragorn knows how much it grieves him, and I believe that is the cause of their row." Gimli stopped and looked out over the carvings of stone that shaped the very structure beneath him. They were fine and detailed, especially for carvings crafted by Men. He ran a calloused finger over the top of the railing and the worn feel reminded him of his home. He started to think back to his people, to his beautiful home carved of stone but Éomer cut into his thoughts.

"How did it happen?" he continued his questioning. "How is it that an Elf good enough to be chosen to go on such a quest was wounded?"

At first Gimli didn't like his tone, feeling that he aimed to insult his new found close friend, but with a scowl he quickly chose his words, words that could bite into the Man standing next to him if he had meant Legolas insult, but also words that would pass if he had not. "The same way as Boromir, a man rendered good enough, fell to the power of the ring and to his death. With a cruel twist of fate." He studied the Man's face, and when he saw no glint of hatred, he knew that he had slightly overreacted. "It happened back when the fellowship was broken," he offered as a sign of repent for his words. "Legolas and I were under heavy fire from the attacking Orcs and a well aimed arrow came his way. Fortunately, being an Elf, he was able to dodge it to some extent, but not fully. It was aimed at his heart and he turned to avoid its bite, but it skimmed deeply across his shoulder blade and would have continued to his other side if it were not for his quiver. It became embedded there, thankfully causing him no more injury."

"Ah, and where was Aragorn at this time?"

Gimli hesitated for a moment. Why did he want to know all this and what value was it to him?

Éomer saw the look of doubt on Gimli's face and informed him that he only wished to understand their actions against the Dark Powers more thoroughly. He also felt that this was a vital fact: that the Elf carried on despite his injuries.

"Aragorn was attempting to aid Boromir at the time, if I recall correctly. I do remember the fact that Legolas had tried to hide his wound from the ranger as well, telling me that we need not worry Aragorn with such unnecessary things. But the ranger knew straight away. He looked at the Elf, and knew that something was wrong, and would not let us leave until Legolas had confessed to him what ailed him."

"Why would he do such a thing?" By this time Éomer was completely confused and could not even begin to fathom the reactions of the Elven prince.

"I do not know," was all Gimli could offer in response.


"Aragorn, just get out of my way," Legolas almost pleaded. He was in no mood to carry on with this ongoing fight with the man, but if need be he would. He would not let the ranger tell him what to do.

"Let me look at your wound and I will." Aragorn reasoned with Legolas. He was growing more and more concerned for his friend with each passing hour. Legolas, always so radiant, almost to the point of glowing under the night sky, was now a deathly white colour, paler then he had ever been. His face constantly showed signs of pain, and his movements were slow and lethargic. But the most frightening and abnormal thing was the slight, darkening rings under his eyes. The Elf had not slept in days, as far as Aragorn knew, and his fatigue was clearly visible. Granted that Elves have a much higher endurance level than even the greatest of men, Aragorn knew that Legolas was well beyond his limits. He looks frail, he mused, so very frail.

While he tried not to admit it to himself, Aragorn had always held Legolas in his heart. From the first time they met, he was taken aback by Legolas' grace and, even, beauty. Aragorn had never felt so strongly about anyone before , especially a male, and it soon dawned on him that he did in fact love Legolas. He always had, and probably always would.

When Aragorn had first left the Elf's company, he thought that his feelings would slowly die down with time and space. But oh, how he was wrong. Time and space only added to his desire for the being, and even when he had met the Lady Arwen, the memory of the blond beauty stayed strong in his mind and heart. The day Legolas was chosen by Elrond to accompany the fellowship as a representative of the Elves, his heart both broke and sang. The thought of being able to spend every hour of the day with Legolas was a wonderful thought, but darker concepts clouded over the good. What if Legolas were hurt? What if he was killed in battle, or taken by the Orcs? Aragorn knew he would never be able to deal with either of these factors, the latter two the most, and he was convinced that he would die if Legolas left him.

So when Aragorn had found that Legolas had in fact been wounded, he was unable to think rationally. He knew that Legolas had tried to hide his wound, but he could see the pain in his face as clear as day. That lead to problems, for all he wanted to do was help, to aid his friend, but Legolas wanted none of it.

The Elf became withdrawn, suffering in spirit as well as body. Aragorn knew that Legolas was young for an Elf, and this was his first major injury at the hands of a fatal enemy. It had forced the Elven archer to accept the fact that, while he may be immortal, he did have limits and even an Elf could be wounded or killed. But Aragorn could not grasp the concept of why Legolas was so distant, and why he refused his help.

"I'm fine, Aragorn. I'll see to it myself if you would just move out of my way." Legolas' clear yet tired voice intercepted Aragorn's thoughts, and a sigh escaped the human's his lips at Legolas' words.

"Legolas, my dear Elf, have you forgotten that the wound lies on your back? You can not possibly clean it yourself." Aragorn said, trying to lighten the mood, but he had managed to do just the opposite.

"No, Aragorn, I have not forgotten. How could I when you constantly remind me of it?" the Elf shot back with a fiery tongue. "And for the last time, I am fine and do not need your help! Now let me pass!" His raised voice bounced off the walls and, as he tried to push past Aragorn again, the ranger grasped him in his arms. "Let me go!" Legolas said while avoiding eye contact.

Aragorn tried desperately to get Legolas to look at him, but it didn't work. The Elf just struggled in his grasp. The ranger let out a sigh, and, while not letting go of the Elf, he spoke in a soft and calm tone. "Legolas, you are not well. Look at me Legolas!" When the Elf made no attempt to do as he asked, he reached over and lifted his face. God he is beautiful, thought the Ranger. Looking into Legolas' ice blue eyes, he continued to speak in a soft and soothing voice, trying to calm the obviously annoyed Elf. "Legolas, I just want to help you. Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because whenever you try to help me, you only succeed in treating me like a child. I am not a child, Aragorn!" Legolas told the Ranger insistently while struggling with the Man's tight grip.

Legolas didn't know what to say. He wanted Aragorns' help, but even the Ranger could not aid him. No Man could. There was no way Aragorn could understand what was happening to him. For the first time in his life, he was faced with the harsh reality that he was just as vulnerable, if not more, than any human. That one wrong choice, one wrong turn, and his immortality would mean nothing. He would die just like any mortal being. He would pass into the next world, and there would be nothing that could be done about it. Of course, he had been told such from an early age, but it was not until something so close to the end had occurred that he felt the full and dramatic impact of this truth.

It had hit him hard, and being the first major wound he had ever suffered made it even worse. He was far from home and surrounded by races of which he had no comprehension. To him, the Men seemed blind; unable to see what was sneaking up on them, unable to sense what hung heavily in the air. And Gimli, well Gimli was a mystery. At first Legolas hated him, and he knew the Dwarf reciprocated the feeling. Their races held a fiery hate. Legolas' father's actions towards Glóin over sixty years ago made it worse.

But the night in Lothlórien changed all. That night, Gimli had come across him in a secluded clearing and interrupted his thoughts. Looking back on it, Legolas was overjoyed that none of the Fellowship was there to hear what they said to each other, that no one heard the words that were shouted for the sole purpose to wounding the other's pride. They argued long into the night and into the early hours of the morning, until tears glistened in both their eyes and they had left no harsh words unspoken. And so it was that they sat there in silence, just looking at each other, trying to get into each other's mind. It was Gimli that broke the silence first, stating that they where a lot alike. When Legolas questioned him on that, he replied with, "You are an Elf. Except for here and now, you will not be in the company of any of your kind. I am a Dwarf suffering the same fate. Aragorn and Boromir have each other and the Hobbits are together. Yet here we are, alone and firing insults."

After that, a lot was discussed between the two, and with a little patience, they learned to put their differences aside and focus on the attributes that they shared. But still, he could not understand what Legolas was going through. No one could. Not until he was with his own people. Not until he was home.

"Legolas?" Aragorn's voice sounded desperate and pleading, "Legolas, can you hear me?" Legolas shook his head to clear it of the thoughts that plagued it. "Legolas?" the concern was strong in Aragorn.

"I can hear you, Aragorn. I just - I..." without any warning Legolas swayed in Aragorn's arms. The Man easily caught him, and in one swift movement, scooped the Elf into his arms by slipping his left arm under Legolas' knees. Legolas' weight scared the man. He knew the Elf to be light, like all Elves for that matter, but Legolas barely weighed a thing.

"Legolas?" he asked, but received no reply as he carried him to a makeshift bed in the corner of the small room. As he gently lay him down, his hand brushed against something wet on Legolas' back. When he slipped his hand
out from under the Elfs' body he saw it red with blood. Panicking slightly, he rolled Legolas over to see his back soaked in blood, obviously his wound had reopened with the Elf's feeble struggling with the Man in the doorway.

Guilt played its toll on his mind as he lifted the bloodstained shirt off the Elven archer to examine the wound. At what he saw there, there was no stopping the horrified gasp that escaped his lips.



Well, there you all go! I hope you liked this at least a little!

Oh, hey! Is anyone picking up on a pattern here? All my stories have Legolas suffering in some way…*ponders this for a while*…I think I need counciling! Lol! Nah, Legolas cruelty is fun! Fun fun fun fun fun!!!!

Ok, well please review…you know, that little button down there that says 'submit review'? Click on that! Thankyou!

Minka Greenleaf…fear me for I now dabble in slash! Lol